


Gonna give you all my love, boy

by everydayescapeartist



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathing/Washing, Brienne is the Best, F/M, First Time, Jaime is the V, Jaime's so soft, Kingsguard, Loss of Virginity, Mutual Pining, No Twincest, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Brienne of Tarth, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing a Room, Slow Burn, Swordfighting, but also quite hard, okay some plot, take this sword and also my virginity please, that was my working title...sums it all up, with multiple shots wink wink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 21:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everydayescapeartist/pseuds/everydayescapeartist
Summary: In a Westeros where Rhaegar and Lyanna rule, Brienne of Tarth is trained and knighted by Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard, with whom she can't help but be smitten.  Jaime takes his vows seriously and refrains from carnal pleasures until he's released from the Kingsguard.  Once he is, there's only one person he wants to give up his V-card to.---“Just say it.  Quickly.  Like ripping off a bandage.”“I’m a virgin.”“What?”  Of all the things that could have come out of his mouth, she hadn’t been expecting that one."I’ve never lain with anyone.”“I understand the general concept.”---“Brienne,” he breathed, looking at her in what could only be described as a reverent manner.  Maybe there was something to this bedding a virgin thing.





	Gonna give you all my love, boy

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah...so, basically I've read fics where Brienne is a virgin and Jaime's not...canon, of course. One night I got it into my head to write a one-shot where Jaime was the virgin and Brienne had a little bit of experience to guide him with. Due to the fact that I have a mental block for imagining that Jaime could ever be a 40-year-old virgin (although come on lines like "it's bloody hot in here" might indicate a possibility, lol), he and Brienne are much closer in age in this fic. I've taken all manner of liberties with the story and characters and used some that I wanted and left others out (just imagine that Elia & fam, Dany & Viserys, etc. are all happy and living their best life...Ned too...maybe he avoided that toxic friendship, lol). Jaime is still knighted at a young age. Maybe he had to see Aerys do some awful stuff but not to the same degree and Aerys took himself out in this one, so Jaime never had that on his plate. No twincest either. We're just gonna go with sweet virgin Jaime. What do you want from me? We just want some porn without *much* plot sometimes, don't we? That said, this little one-shot decided to be nearly 17,000 words even without the additional characters/plot. Virgin Jaime is inspiring, apparently. This fits in with Fictober 2019 Prompt 11 ("It's not always like this.") Hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. If you know where the title came from, you obvs have some appreciation for the '80s. :-)

She’d been so excited to get to learn from him, the Golden Lion, knighted (by Ser Arthur Dayne no less) when he was just 15, invited into the Kingsguard that same year. She’d seen him in a couple tourneys her father had taken her to. He was glorious. His movements precise. He danced with his opponents. And then beat them soundly. If she were to have to endure a crush on someone, there was no worthier subject for her. Of course, she was perfectly stoic when she did meet him. She was serious about becoming a knight and she was determined to show him, the rest of the Kingsguard, and the King himself if need be that it was the case. 

King Rhaegar Targaryen had taken the throne when his father had gone mad enough to set himself ablaze with wildfire, expecting to turn into a dragon but merely turning into ashes instead. There had been no love lost with his passing. He had brutally tortured and murdered too many subjects for that. But his son, Rhaegar, had been a fair ruler so far. He’d married Lyanna Stark and she was an outspoken and very good queen. The fact that she had been inclined toward riding and fighting and more traditionally masculine pursuits in prior years of her life was, Brienne had no doubt, largely why the knighthood had been opened to females as well as males. She didn’t kid herself that it’d be easy, that she’d be well accepted. She never had been and she’d always had to prove herself. But proving herself was what she did best. 

She’d proven herself to him, to Jaime Lannister. He’d trained her along with all of the other wannabe knights. Some hadn’t lasted but she was always destined to. She’d always been willing to put in the work. She’d been knocked down, flipped, bruised in places that had never seen the light of day…all in service to her goal. It was worth it. In a ceremony overseen by the King and Queen, she’d been knighted, the first female knight. Lannister himself had knighted her. Her body had never shaken more than in that moment when she’d knelt before him. For some reason she couldn’t quite fathom, he’d even seemed a bit nervous as he’d gripped his sword and if she weren’t mistaken, he’d seemed somehow affected by the moment too. He’d smiled at her as he told her to rise and she thought he looked genuinely proud. She knew her cheeks must have been aflame with color and her eyes had definitely held unshed tears of joy. It had been a moment she would never forget. Her father had come for the ceremony and that had been a wonderful memory to share with him too. 

…

Following the ceremony, she’d been assigned to help keep the peace in The Reach. She’d proudly taken up her post and after some months of begrudging her, the men she was assigned with began to trust her intentions and abilities. A few even seemed to grow fond of her. In retrospect, she realized their affection was too pronounced, too swiftly given. She learned of their bet too late. Hyle Hunt confessed it when she lay naked beneath him. At that point, she’d already decided she wasn’t saving her virginity for any particular person or reason. The life of a knight could be a lonely one…a dangerous one too. She didn’t have any intention of marrying or having children. She’d always doubted that would ever be a true option for her anyway. She'd been told she was ugly and odd from a very young age by all but her family. She hadn't lacked for looking glasses either; she knew what she looked like. Many had scoffed at her interests in fighting and weaponry too. She'd never fit in well. But as a knight, she could. She had the abilities. Still, it seemed some people would always only see her as an aberration. Lying there with Hunt, she was hurt. Of course she was. But she was so used to that. She was able to mask it to an extent. She lied and told Hyle she knew of it and she’d chosen him. He was to split the money with her when he collected it or else she’d make sure he regretted not sharing. And he should just get on with it lest she believe him incapable. He didn’t need to be told twice. 

Physically speaking, the experience wasn’t bad. It wasn’t exactly good but that would have been near impossible considering the myriad of thoughts running through her mind during the act. She hoped she’d made the right choice. There was no turning back. She only shed silent tears once she’d sent Hyle on his way and was alone again in her tent.

The next day, the snickers as she walked through camp were unpleasant but still nothing she wasn’t used to. Ronnet Connington asked her if she needed to go soak her sore cunt in a bath and she asked if he’d been sore when Hunt had fucked him and commented that she was surprised he knew what a bath was. That night, Hyle had come to her tent again, offering her half of the money he’d earned on the bet. He’d apologized for getting caught up in it and said he actually did like her and thought she was a good knight. In the days to follow, he became more genuinely friendly toward her. She looked around for Connington and his buddies but in the times that she spotted them, they shot her looks of disgust and turned away. Hyle was on the receiving end of some of those looks, so she was inclined to believe he had defied them in some way, perhaps by not choosing to taunt her regarding the loss of her maidenhead. 

It wasn’t a loss though in the sense that she needed it. She still firmly believed that she didn’t. As the weeks passed and she observed the dalliances the other knights had with local women, she grew curious. Tents were thin, as were walls at inns, and other women certainly seemed to enjoy the sexual act…or they were terrific actors. One evening after she and Hyle had finished a watch shift together, she invited him back to her tent. He was a decent looking man, if not devastatingly handsome…but there was only one man who’d ever fit that bill for her and he was only to be admired from afar or from memory anyway. When she told Hyle she wanted to know if fucking could be at all enjoyable, he seemed both offended and somewhat motivated. He took his time. He taught her things. He let her learn his body too. It was better than the first time. It still felt like a very strange act. 

Since Hyle was the only person who knew her body as intimately as she did, he became the appropriate choice for her to continue her sexual education. It wasn’t a daily or even weekly occurrence but after a few weeks he’d give her a questioning look and she’d give him a slight nod and they’d meet up at night and explore and ease one another’s tensions. They took the proper precautions to avoid pregnancy, as Brienne had insisted on from before the first time. He spilled his seed outside her body and she used well-known herbs as well just in case. A time or two, she inserted a sponge as a barrier. All worked, thankfully. As time went on, Brienne began to enjoy sex more. With Hyle’s help, she learned what she liked most and she learned to relax enough to find pleasure. Hyle learned her body as well and really seemed to take some pride in knowing how to make her come. The first time it happened she was completely surprised by it. She’d nearly bitten a chunk out of Hyle’s shoulder in her attempt to muffle the sounds that wanted to escape from her. He seemed to take that as a personal triumph. 

Hyle was killed in a skirmish in Tumbleton. He’d been there on a routine supply run and when the fighting broke out, his throat had been slit before he could draw his sword. The conflict was under control again an hour later. Brienne wrote a letter to his family and saw it delivered with his body back to Horn Hill. Her life at camp was once again very solitary. She hadn’t loved Hyle but she had developed a comfort with him, the beginnings of a friendship. She hated that he’d been taken so quickly. It was a harsh reminder of the life and potential death she’d committed herself to. She didn’t regret it. It just felt very real. 

…

She didn’t regret the time she’d spent with Hyle. For a while, they’d been able to take solace in each other’s presence and each other’s bodies. And she’d gotten to know a part of herself she might not have otherwise. 

Brienne poured herself more than ever into her duty and her continuous training. She fought in her first tourney, the melee at Bitterbridge, and had the satisfaction of beating each man who had taken bets on her maidenhead and had never once expressed any remorse in doing so. Defeating Edmund Ambrose and Ben Bushy had been pleasing but defeating Ronnet Connington and breaking that smug nose of his in the process had been thrilling. She had thought she would find herself pitted against Loras Tyrell in the final but that was before she realized that Jaime Lannister had been invited to compete starting at the semi-final level. Having proven his mettle in many tournaments before and being part of the Kingsguard, he did not need to fight the knights of lower tourney ranking. That would have been considered an insult to him. Some of the audience still felt it was an insult to him when he was paired against her in the final match. He didn’t seem to think so though. The glint in his green eyes as he bowed to her and the way “Ser Brienne” rolled off his tongue like honey gave the impression that he was pleased to be facing her. 

“Ser Jaime,” she greeted as she bowed back. 

“It’s good to find you well here and in one piece.”

“Did you doubt it, Ser?”

“Not even a little. Let’s keep it that way, hmm?”

“Of course, Ser.”

She didn’t feel quite as confident as she sounded. She’d certainly trained hard and had real world experience since her knighting. She had also been one of Jaime’s best pupils. That wasn’t just her opinion. Jaime himself had expressed it to the King and Queen when asked at the knighting review. The council had called he and the other Kingsguard in prior to setting a date for the ceremony and had asked them to speak candidly about the candidates for knighthood. She hadn’t been present of course but at the ceremony, Queen Lyanna had spoken of her pride in seeing the first female knight and had pointed out that she was not only achieving knighthood but that her trainer Jaime Lannister had called her one of the best pupils he’d ever worked with, a born knight if he’d ever met one.

Brienne’s eyes had flitted to his in that moment and he’d nodded at her, acknowledging the truth of it. She had let her lips curve just slightly and nodded back. 

She wasn’t his student now, not officially. She knew she could still learn from him though. She’d never bested him in sparring, but she’d come close. Closer than any of the other knighting candidates. And she’d beat every other contender at the tourney she’d been paired against. She deserved to be there. She deserved to be standing across from him. She both wanted to beat him and didn’t. Honor compelled her to give it her all. 

They danced. It had been a year since they last had but she still knew this dance. He teased and then he tested. She did the same. She’d been taught by the best after all. The metal kissed...once, twice, thrice, the passion building. They circled one another, holding each other’s gaze. 

“Your eyes feel like an unfair advantage, Tarth.”

She frowned at him but held her position. He was just trying to make her lose her focus. She understood the technique, though somehow she didn’t appreciate him trying it on her. She didn’t think her eyes were revealing her next move. She knew he’d coached her before about not grunting on her lunges and giving away the game. 

“You’d best watch more than my eyes, Lannister.”

On one level, it felt wrong to use only his surname but on another it felt satisfying. Even playing field. If she was Ser, so was he. If she was Tarth, then he was Lannister.

His face split into a grin. “Oh, I am Tarth.”

By the Seven, the way he was looking at her...it made her feel like she wasn’t wearing any armor at all. She forced herself to focus on his weak spots, her potential targets, whilst keeping her eyes on his key muscles and joints, waiting for the flexion that would tell her where to block and where he’d left himself vulnerable. The twitch of his thigh and she twisted her body to avoid his attack. An attack here, a parry there, circle, repeat. The crowd cheered each time they thought they might witness a victory. The tension was palpable between attacks. Some grew restless, yelling at them to just get on with it as if the spectators had any idea what it was to stand where they stood and to be so well matched. 

Still, at least one of them would have to get more wreckless. Risk could bring reward or ruin. Brienne wasn’t naturally inclined to it. Jaime wasn’t so shy of it though. 

“I’d do this all day with you, Tarth, but alas, our audience might decapitate us with tomatoes soon. That would be a horribly dishonorable way to go.”

"You’re right, Lannister. So surrender and appease them.”

The look he gave her made her heart beat faster and her skin tingle beneath her armor. She knew he had no intention of surrendering. She would rather beat him summarily anyway. She was just playing the game. He looked at her like he was playing a different one. 

“I do like you, Tarth.”

He said it with a smirk she didn’t have time to process because the next moment he was on her, swinging his sword relentlessly. She was on the defensive until she managed to counter with enough control to push him back. She shut the crowd noise out and all she knew was Jaime, the breaths he panted out, the clank of his armor as he moved, as they collided, locked in an embrace of sorts, their swords kissing, the metal of their helmets all but touching. Their eyes met. They were so close. He breathed her air and she his. She’d be lying if she said part of her didn’t want to throw her sword down and tackle him to the ground and kiss him. If she’d had hopes of her crush having gone away, they were dashed out there on that tourney field. She wanted him more than ever. And that could never be. So, she pushed him away with more force than may have been necessary. And that was her mistake. Because while it threw him off slightly, it nearly toppled her. The few seconds of balance correction she required gave him the opening to get his sword to her neck as he swept her leg out from under her. She lay on the ground staring up at him, his blade pointed at her neck, his foot resting on her sword arm, his eyes both triumphant and apologetic. 

She let her sword drop from her hand. The crowd went wild. Jaime stepped back and reached a hand down to help pull her up. She accepted it. Her pride was hurt but she believed in good sportsmanship (and she still wouldn’t squander an opportunity to touch him). It seemed like he gripped her hand longer than was strictly necessary once she was righted on her feet once more. She pulled her helmet off with her free hand and he did the same, shaking out that beautiful mane of hair. He smiled at her and raised their arms above their heads as if to tell the crowd they were both victors. The crowd went wild. People later told her they’d never seen a match as exciting as theirs had been. Jaime smiled to the crowd and she followed suit. Though she’d ultimately lost the top prize, she’d won in other ways. What a successful first tournament it had been really. And if she was to lose, it was not a surprise that it had been to him. Still, one day...

“I look forward to a rematch,” she said, a bit of challenge in her tone, as she stepped back and bowed to him once he’d lowered their arms. 

“It would be my pleasure, Ser,” he responded and the look on his face made her believe him. 

A garland of roses was brought out and placed around his neck. Hyle and the other men who’d bet on her maidenhead had wooed her with roses. She had determined she hated them. Seeing them around Jaime’s neck made her think about how he deserved them. They were meant for him. Beauty to beauty. What if she had won? Wouldn’t that have been quite a lark for Connington and his men? Still, she’d beat them all. She was the last one laughing. 

That evening, there'd been a feast and she and Jaime had been invited to sit at the head table along with Loras Tyrell and Dickon Tarly, the semi-finalist contestants. Lord Renly Baratheon, Mace Tyrell, and Randall Tarly were also seated at the table. Brienne felt a bit wistful that her own father couldn't be seated at the table with them but Jaime's father was not present either. He sat next to her conversing genially with everyone at the table. She sat quietly eating her meal and answering questions when addressed. Mostly Ser Jaime and Lord Renly engaged her in conversation and she didn't hate the attentions of either. She had met Renly several years ago before she'd found herself with the opportunity to leave Tarth and seek knighthood. She'd been awkward and the butt of many jokes at a dance in honor of her name day and Renly had asked her to dance for several dances, encouraging her to ignore the boys who were being mean idiots. She'd enjoyed her name day after all thanks to Renly, so she'd always have a soft spot in her heart for him. 

After dinner, a group of musicians did strike up a tune and some of the tournament contestants and spectators began to dance. Renly eyed her and the corners of his lips lifted in a friendly smile. "Ser Brienne, would you do me the honor again? I remember our previous dances fondly."

She nodded and returned his smile. "I do as well, Lord Renly," she said, rising with him from the table. As they moved toward where the others were dancing, she caught a glimpse of Jaime and he was staring at them, the expression on his face one she wasn't necessarily familiar with. He looked perhaps confused and irritated. She and Renly enjoyed a dance and then continued right into another. He told her he was proud of her for proving the idiots were, in fact, idiots. She asked after Storm's End and he told her of the rainbow guard he'd employed to guard his home there. He gave her an open invitation to come visit or to come live there anytime. She blushed at his kindness. She was not overly accustomed to it. Renly was a handsome man, more handsome than Hyle. That said, she didn't imagine he offered anything more than friendship and she knew that was nothing to scoff at. They almost chatted their way into a third dance except that Brienne realized there was suddenly a presence at their side. Jaime. He stood there somewhat stiffly though he still projected a comfortable sort of confidence to anyone who was watching. 

"Your pardon, Lord Renly. I had hoped to dance with Ser Brienne this evening as well."

She wondered if her eyebrows had quite reached her hairline as it felt like they were certainly stretching in that direction in that moment. Jaime wanted to dance with her? A dance dance, not a sword-fighting dance?

Renly looked somewhat amused but inclined his head toward Jaime and then brought Brienne's hand up to his lips to offer a chaste kiss there. "I thank you, milady, my Ser, for another memorable experience." 

She smiled and nodded. "Same to you, milord."

He turned and wound his way through the crowd back to their table where he slid in next to Loras Tyrell. She turned her attention to Jaime, a flood of butterflies taking to flight in her gut. "What do you say, Ser Brienne?" he asked, smiling a charming smile at her. "Will you share a different type of dance with me?" She nodded, trying to exude a confidence she didn't feel, as if this was all quite commonplace. Jaime's smile widened further and he moved closer to her so that they could perform the dance properly. They moved in sync with one another through several steps and when they had to join hands, it felt like all of her nerve endings were afire. 

"You're a very good dancer, Ser," he complimented her.

"Thank you, Ser. So are you."

He placed a hand against the small of her back to guide her as he twirled her with his other. "It sounds like you may have spoiled Lord Renly with your skills."

She wanted to laugh. The idea was preposterous. Renly had likely danced with many a graceful young lady. Ser Jaime likely had as well for that matter.

"In truth, it may be the other way around." There it was again, that flicker of irritation crossing his face, gone before she had a chance to assess it further.

"You two are close?"

It took her a moment to figure out how to answer that. "Not exactly. He's been a friend to me. I appreciate his company."

"I appreciate your company."

If she'd blushed at Renly's kindness, she was full out flushing at this statement. Looking around, she could see that the truth of the situation was that there were any number of women who would appreciate Jaime's company that evening. She saw them shooting daggers at her with their eyes. 

"I'm honored to share this dance with you," she offered, wanting to cringe at how uncertain she sounded.

"I'd be honored if you'd share several more as well."

"I...yes...I can...we can...do that." 

"Good. I've missed you, you know."

He had to mean as a student and sparring partner. "No one else able to challenge you enough?" she teased.

"No. But that's not the only reason I've missed you."

She'd told herself to breathe. This couldn't be as good as it sounded. "Oh?"

"To be honest, I don't know how many people I genuinely like. But you, you're honorable and skilled and your sense of humor is subtle but enjoyable...and sometimes your lack of a sense of humor is even more enjoyable."

Was he trying to compliment her or make fun of her? She wasn't entirely sure. 

"I just...I enjoyed training you. And arguing with you." He chuckled and she looked at him quizzically. "It hasn't been the same since you left for the Reach, Tarth." She didn't know what to say. "Anyway, I will be a bit sad to leave here tomorrow. I'm glad you've established yourself well here though. I know you'll bring your best wherever you go."

"I appreciate that, Ser. I've been fortunate to learn from the best, if most arrogant, knight in Westeros." 

"Ah, there she is. That sass! A whole other way to slay in your fights."

"Speaking of...what was that move you did shortly before you began to fear decapitation by tomato?"

He laughed and then spoke with her about some of his newer attacks and parries and complimented her on some of her new moves too. They chatted through a few more dances about fighting, knightly duties, political unrest, their families, and mundane things like when the weather might turn and which feast foods they wish they'd eaten more of. They walked around the celebration for a while and continued their conversation, parting for their respective tents just shy of midnight. 

"I wish you good fortune, Ser Jaime."

"I wish the same for you, Ser Brienne. I hope we meet again before too long."

"I hope so, too." They stared at each other for several more beats and then she began to turn away but he stopped her a moment later, his hand reaching for hers. She looked down at their hands and then let out a gasp that turned into a laugh as he swiftly raised her arm and spun her one last time. As she spun back around to face him, he was smiling at her. She was enjoying that sight as he raised their joined hands so that he could place a soft kiss to her knuckles. She didn't know if he lingered or if time just stood still for her in that moment but she did know their eyes met before his lips left her hand and it felt like lightning had struck her, radiating from her hand to the rest of her body. He squeezed her hand gently before releasing it, trailing his fingertips over hers as he let his hand drop back to his side. She had to remind herself to shut her mouth so she didn't gawp at him like a fish and to breathe normally.

"Good night."

"Good night.”

…

They didn't meet again for another six months, when they found themselves fighting side by side in the battle that finally squelched Robert Baratheon's rebellion. It was a beautiful, powerful thing fighting at his side. They moved as a unit, complementing each other's moves, defending each other's flanks, trading opponents in a dance they were quite skilled at. While the rebellion was doomed from the start, the campaign of a jealous, scorned man who felt Queen Lyanna should be his wife and King Rhaegar was too weak to lead the Seven Kingdoms, Jaime and Brienne and their fellow knights fought fiercely to squash the conflict swiftly and ultimately limit bloodshed and collateral damage.

Following Robert's execution at Jaime's hand, Brienne was there to tend the wound Robert's hammer had managed to his leg. It was broken but he was very lucky it wasn't shattered. It'd heal with time and basic intervention. A maester set the bone, applied salve, and splinted the leg. Brienne sat with Jaime, reapplied salve, checked the security of the splint and offered sips of water and broth. He was by turns pleased to have her there and annoyed that she felt bound to play nursemaid to him. Brienne wouldn't have chosen to be anywhere else but she didn't let him in on the strength of her resolve in that matter, just simply telling him she was the nominated party being female and within his rank. 

When he wasn't grumpy with her, they spoke of all manner of things. They played word games and imagined hilarious futures for various well-known Westerosi. They spoke of their childhoods and of what growing up on Tarth or in Casterly Rock had been like. They spoke more as equals than ever. "Just call me Jaime," he'd implored her one day as she'd brought him fresh water for his wash basin. She'd turned to meet his eyes as she headed back toward the doorflap on the tent. "We are both Sers but I don't need to hear you say it all the time to know it's true." She'd nodded and been inspired to respond. "Then, just call me Brienne." And so they'd used only each other's given name for the remainder of the days they spent together for Jaime's convalescence, other than when they had made mention of one another in the presence of others. 

Before long, Jaime was stable enough to travel. He had to get back to Rhaegar. Brienne was to go inform Renly of the circumstances of his brother's death and ensure his continued loyalty to the crown. It was with a heavy heart and an ache in the pit of her belly that she entered his tent on the day they were to part. He was up and standing behind a desk but he made his way slowly around it when she entered, leaning on a crutch for support. 

"I'm glad you are much recovered, Jaime."

"Thank you, Brienne. I am, too, though I am reluctant to be on my way."

"Are you still feeling too much pain? If so, I'm sure you could delay another few days."

"No, it's not that. I'm able to go and I should go. The truth is I've grown quite used to our days here, Brienne. I haven't always been pleasant but I hope you've still enjoyed getting to know me more as I have you."

His words set her heart aflutter. She unconsciously bit her bottom lip. "I have, Jaime. I will miss our talks."

"Would you write to me sometimes? I mean, ravens of course when there are important updates, but I mean just letting me know of your well-being."

No one had ever asked it of her before. Her father hadn't even expressly asked though she did send him periodic letters anyway. That she should mean enough to Jaime for him to want to hear from her while they were apart was surprising and helped her feel a bit better about leaving him. "Yes. Of course."

"Thank you. I'll do the same though my writing is less than skilled."

"I'll be glad to read what you want to send."

He moved closer to her then, she thought perhaps to take her hand. She was proven right a moment later, but he didn't raise her hand to his lips like he had months ago. He held it in his, gently stroking the back of hers with his thumb. "Thank you for everything, Brienne," he said sincerely, holding her gaze and then he surprised her further by leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek. It felt like he lingered there and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips on her skin and the heady male scent of him so close under her nostrils. He pulled back and squeezed her hand before letting go. And once more, they said their goodbyes.

...

They'd done their duty and stayed in touch when they could as promised. He had gone back to Rhaegar. Brienne had gone to Renly, who she was glad to confirm wasn't part of Robert's quest and was still very loyal to the crown. She served in his rainbow guard trying to ward off any revenge from Stannis Baratheon, whose loyalty to the crown was still in question. It became clearer that Stannis was intent on taking up his brother's fight when he attacked King's Landing in the Battle of the Blackwater three months later. Brienne had worried for Jaime, harrassing the Storm's End maester about the arrival of any ravens until she finally learned he'd survived. Stannis had not been successful but he had fled. She vowed revenge on him on Jaime's behalf as well as Renly's. The latter would need to be more cautious than ever in his dealings with the crown, given the way his family name was currently despised in King's Landing and other regions. 

Renly made a step in the right direction by agreeing to marry Margaery Tyrell. The Tyrells were in good standing with the crown. Though it was clear to Brienne by that point that Renly loved Loras Tyrell and not his sister, his move did not hurt that relationship given that Loras was betrothed to Cersei Lannister. The Tyrell siblings had a double wedding a few months after the Battle of the Blackwater, a grand affair, and that is where Brienne and Jaime saw each other again. 

The wedding was held at Highgarden and a feast followed. “Is this seat taken?” His voice churned something within her, something always near the surface, and she turned to look up at him, motioning for him to sit down next to her. His knee bumped hers beneath the table as he angled himself so that he could see her as they ate and talked. 

“It is good to see you, Ser.” 

“You as well, Ser.” 

“Thank you for the details you wrote to me about the Blackwater. I was very glad to hear of your safety.”

“I was glad to be able to tell you of it,” he said with a grin. “What did you think of the wedding?”

“I think it was quite nice. Both couples seem to be getting on well.”

“Madly in love, do you think?”

She opened her mouth to comment and then shut it again, not sure what to say and not wanting to reveal what she shouldn’t.

“It’s okay. Both are political alliances. With any luck, they’ll learn to live with each other and accept each other’s tendencies.”

So he knew, it seemed. “Is your sister pleased?”

“Is she ever pleased?” Jaime laughed. “I think she’s pleased that she’ll easily be able to control her husband. She’s pleased at the amount of gold she has married into. My father’s pleased, which means a great deal to her.”

“But not to you?”

“Not as much, no. Though he thinks he’ll be more pleased with me soon.”

“Why’s that?”

“My time of service in the Kingsguard will be completed in two month’s time.”

“And you’ll return to Casterly Rock and accept your inheritance?”

“That’s what he’s hoping.”

“But you don’t want to?”

“Not yet, no. I might take up a field post. Maybe I’ll come keep you company.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. What was the actual likelihood? “You’d best be prepared to train regularly if you do.” She tried to keep her voice light, not to get her hopes up.

“Of course, Tarth.”

She smiled at him and enjoyed every bit of his company before they both left that evening and headed back into the night toward their respective bases. 

…

As it turned out, two months later the Queen had concerns for her former home, Winterfell. House Bolton sought to take the castle for themselves to seize power in the north and word had it that Stannis Baratheon had been spotted in talks with Roose Bolton, all of which boded ill for the south. Brienne and knights from various regions in the south were asked to travel north to maintain and regain peace in the region. She didn’t know if this had changed any of Jaime’s plans. Last she had heard, he was still set to complete his Kingsguard service and seek assignment in some other area of Westeros. She didn’t necessarily believe that he was serious about finding a shared assignment with her…but seeing is believing. 

When she reached the inn, she was not expecting to walk in and see him sitting at a table there, supping and drinking and wearing the plainer garb of a knight not beholden to the Kingsguard. He stood when he saw her, a hopeful smile forming on his face. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing and then she moved swiftly to join him at his table. He pulled the chair out for her. She shouldn’t have liked that so much…but she did. 

“Ser Jaime, what are you doing here?"

“The same thing you are, Ser Brienne. Heading north and needing a rest stop.”

“You’re not wearing your white cloak.”

“No, I’m not. I am honorably released from the ‘guard. I have served my seven years.”

“Congratulations and thank you for serving the kingdom so well.”

“Thank you. It’s definitely had its moments.” His lips curved as he said it. “But now I’m looking forward to new adventures.”

“Adventures up north?”

“It would seem so. Will you help keep me warm, Tarth?”

She knew he was teasing her. Still, she knew she’d be happy to. “You just keep your mouth running and all of the hot air it expels will keep you warm, Lannister.”

His laugh was hearty. He seemed happy. He motioned for the serving girl and they dined together, speaking of their travels and what lay ahead for them as they continued their journey. They leaned in and spoke in low tones to one another at times to maintain discretion. When their dinner had been cleared away, Brienne had mentioned that she’d best speak with the innkeeper about a room. Jaime had offered to do so for her and returned shortly after with a key that he handed to her. They made their way upstairs and stopped outside the room whose number matched that etched into the key. As she opened the door, Brienne asked after which room Jaime would be staying in and he looked apologetic. Clearing his throat, he explained to her that the innkeeper had told him there were no other rooms left as Jaime had snagged the last one. 

“So, this is your room, Jaime!” she protested. “I can camp out. It’s fine.”

“Nonsense. I can make camp or sleep in the hall.” She started to shake her head and he held a hand up before continuing carefully. “Or…we could just…share the room.”

Her eyes grew bigger as she considered the suggestion and then she realized that if he had no problem with it, she didn’t. It was not unusual for knights to share rooms at an inn. This was not so different. Except that it made her heart beat faster and her palms start to sweat and her mouth go dry. “Oh…yes…of course. That makes the most sense.” She moved further into the room so that he could enter and watched as he shut the door behind them. It was a small room and the bed took up the majority of it. At least it was a generously sized bed and not a mere cot. She had really been looking forward to a regular bed that night and she guessed so had he. The fireplace was going, which took some of the chill out of the air, though she didn’t know if the goosebumps she felt had to do with the chill or Jaime’s proximity and the situation they found themselves in. 

“Brienne, I have something for you,” Jaime said, interrupting her thoughts. She stared at him questioningly and watched as he unstrapped one of the swords at his belt. She had noted that he wore two, which wasn’t his usual preference but was more her own, but she hadn’t thought much of it. He pulled the sword from its scabbard, rested it horizontally on his hands, and held it out to her. “It’s Valyrian steel.”

“What?” she asked, confused. “It’s beautiful...but why?”

He moved closer to her and urged her to take the sword, so she did, running her finger along its length and then turning her attention to its intricately designed hilt. When she looked closer she saw the Tarth sigil incorporated there, the crescent moons and suns bringing tears to her eyes, unbidden. “It’s a gift from the King and Queen. Before they released me, they thanked me for my service, in particular in taking down Robert Baratheon. I assured them I could not have succeeded without the partner I had in you. They’d meant to honor me with a Valerian steel sword but instead, given what I’d told them, they have doubly honored me by having that one melted down and made into two, the one you’re holding and the one I’m still wearing." He handed her the scabbard for her sword and pulled the other sword at his belt out to show her its strength and craftsmanship too. His bore the Lannister sigil. 

“Jaime…you didn’t have to…you earned that sword.” She was beyond touched and feeling overwhelmed with the swirl of emotions running through her in that moment. 

“And I have earned this sword, which I love.” He gripped his sword hilt proudly. “And you have earned yours. And it honors me to be able to give it to you and thank you. I owe you my life many times over.”

She looked down at the beautiful steel she held, willing tears not to fall onto it. Blinking to control them, she looked up a couple moments later. “You saved my life out there too, more than once.”

“Then we are agreed.” He sent her a warm smile. 

“I…thank you…Jaime.” He nodded at her, sliding his sword back into its scabbard. Brienne reverently did the same and then placed hers down on a nearby table.

“Brienne, I have something else…”

Her eyes shot to his.

“Not another gift…” She relaxed minutely. “I mean, well, maybe it’s that…” He chuckled nervously. She looked confused once more. “Can we sit maybe?” She nodded and they each pulled a chair out from the table so that they could sit facing each other in front of the fire. Brienne waiting for Jaime to continue. He took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing. I have heard some things…about Hyle Hunt…and you.”

“Ser Hunt died over a year ago,” she said cautiously.

“Yes, I know. I mean…I heard these things last year when I came to the melee at Bitterbridge.”

Connington and his goons, she thought angrily. “What did you hear?”

“That you and Hunt were intimate for some time before his death.”

“Is that how it was phrased?”

“Well, no…but I didn’t appreciate how it was phrased. My fist made contact with the filthy mouths that spoke of you in a cutting way.”

She had noticed that Connington and his pals looked pretty rough the day after the tournament but she hadn’t catalogued their injuries from their various rounds and men tended to get rowdy and get into drunken fights at feasts anyway. It pleased her to think of Jaime punching them on her behalf. But then she thought a bit more about what he’d just said. 

“Why are you bringing this up, Jaime? Has it been bothering you to associate yourself with one as filthy as I?”

“What?! No! That’s not…they were unkind to you in what they thought of your actions. I think you are a strong woman who makes whatever choices she deems best for herself. I respect that. I don’t think poorly of you for it, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Okay. Then, what is it? Did you want to ask me something about Hyle? Why is he coming up now? He was honorable in his service. I saw his body taken to his family.”

“I know. I’m sorry you had to go through that loss.”

“Oh, I…thank you.”

He nodded to her, sincerity written all over his face. “I brought it up because…well, it’s not just one reason…because I did want to express my condolences. We’re friends and we’ve talked about a lot and all the different parts of your life matter to me, you know, not just our work.”

She held his gaze, letting him continue. She had since Jaime’s post-Robert recuperation period begun to think of what they shared as friendship too, so it was heartening to hear him verbalize it. 

“There are things we haven’t spoken of and I had wanted to speak of one of those tonight.”

“I’m listening, Jaime,” she said, patiently. 

“I know. I appreciate it. You are so good to me and I don’t want to offend you or jeopardize our connection.”

He was really making her nervous now.

“Just say it. Quickly. Like ripping off a bandage.”

“I’m a virgin.”

“What?” Of all the things that could have come out of his mouth, she hadn’t been expecting that one.

"I’ve never lain with anyone.”

“I understand the general concept.”

“I know. Sorry. The thing is my Kingsguard vows were to remain pure in my devotion to the royal family, denying any physical pursuits that weren’t to the direct benefit and protection of them, and so on. I was to engage in no relations, refrain from marriage and all of the like.”

“I have heard the vows. I just honestly had not thought that any of the ‘guard took them so literally or abided by them so fully. And you…”

“What about me?”

She felt the blush rise furiously up her cheeks. “It’s just…well, no one in Westeros is likely to believe that you’re still a virgin.”

“Because others don’t take the vows as seriously?”

“That and…I mean…look at you,” she sputtered. He eyed her with some amusement, remaining silent now and not helping her out in the least. He quirked an eyebrow at her in question. “You’re Ser Jaime Lannister, the Golden Lion. Women swoon over you. Some men probably swoon over you. It just wouldn’t be hard for you to rid yourself of your virginity is all I’m saying.”

“I thought it was supposed to be hard in order for me to lose my virginity. At least that’s what the maester taught me back when my body began to change. Perhaps I really am ignorant to the process.” His teasing tone annoyed her. 

“Oh, stop it, Jaime. You know what I mean.”

He looked chastised and schooled his expression into something more serious again. “I do. I think. I mean, I’ve had offers. My vows were important to me though. I don’t know if it would have mattered too much if I hadn’t held to them but perhaps there would have been complications that would have developed that would have kept me from performing my ‘guard duties as well. I don’t know. I don’t regret my decision. My brother and sister certainly mocked me for it. Others too. But I don’t care and I can’t take it back anyway.”

“I respect that you honored your vows so.”

“I thought you might.”

“My vows did not state the same.”

“I know. I’m not saying any of this to compare and contrast us or to question your decisions.”

“Okay. You just wanted to share that about yourself because we’re friends and you can trust me?”

“Partly, yes.”

“And the other part?”

“Well, I’m released from my vows now, having served my time.”

“Oh…and you wanted me to help you find someone to change your purity status?”

“I think I’ve already found her.”

“Ah, who is she?” She tried to sound nonchalant as she asked, her heart sinking that she might have to be the friend to help push this woman in his direction. She’d just die a little on the inside. Nothing too unusual.

“Brienne.”

“Hm?”

He looked at her pointedly. When she still waited expectantly, he leaned forward and took her hands in his. Then, one by one, he kissed them. She sucked in a breath and then nearly choked on it. “Me?” she croaked, embarrassed by the change to her voice. He couldn’t mean her and now she’d be further embarrassed about having voiced the question. Except that he held her gaze and his head moved up and down. That was a nod. That was the physical movement most commonly recognized by humans as a nod. An affirmative. A yes. She stopped breathing entirely. 

He noticed. 

“Breathe.”

So she did. She remembered how somehow. This had to be a cruel joke. Another cruel joke or bet at her expense. She’d never expect it of Jaime though. And there was no one around near as she could tell that would be in on it. 

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice quiet and tense.

“Because I think it’s a good idea.”

“To mock me? To jest at my expense?”

“I wouldn’t do that. And isn’t it rather at my expense?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

He knelt down before her and released her left hand so that he could place his right over his heart. “I swear it, Brienne. May I fall on my own new Valyrian steel sword if I’m making a cruel jest. If I wasn’t so concerned that I’ve now offended you, I might feel offended myself at the accusation.”

She ran her eyes over the posture of his body, his eyes that were imploring her own, his mouth parted and waiting for her judgment. Everything she saw indicated that he was telling the truth. And he’d really never given her reason to doubt him. It wasn’t his fault other men had set such an example. “Get up,” she ordered, her voice raw with emotion. He looked at her questioningly and she nodded, providing the apparent assurance on her face that he needed. Slowly, he eased himself back up onto his chair but not before scooting it even closer to hers. “If you’re not jesting...” He gave her a pained look. “…which I believe you’re not…” A small smile formed on that handsome face. “Why me? Because we’re in a convenient situation? I mean, that makes sense. I’m not offended by that…"

“It’s not because we’re in a convenient situation. I’ve been wanting to have this conversation with you for some time. I mean, my vows were still in place until recently but I’ve been thinking about this conversation. It’s not a new or spur of the moment development.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to. It’s a request, not something I’d want you to agree to if you didn’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” she blurted, wanting to fall into a hole in the ground immediately after saying it.

He raised both eyebrows at her and the corners of his lips twitched. 

“Sorry,” she said. “Continue…with your reasoning, I mean.”

“Well,” he said slowly, “we get along quite well. We’re friends. I can trust you and you’ll be discreet. You have knowledge of this that I do not. Experience.” She nodded. What he said was true. It wasn’t passionate but it was true. It was practical. She could appreciate that. She shouldn’t expect more. What she’d had with Hyle had been practical too. “Also…I think the way our bodies move together when we spar or fight alongside each other…I think it could translate to something good in bed.” 

Oh. Well, that was more. And she didn’t disagree. He was looking at her expectantly. “You may be right,” she said carefully, “but I just…”

“What?” he asked softly.

She looked down at their knees, not very far apart at this point. “I can’t be the person you’d dream of sharing this with.”

His hand came into her line of vision, now resting on her knee. His other hand showed up beneath her chin right before he placed a finger under it and urged her to raise it and look at him. “Actually, I dreamed of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, more than once I’ve dreamed of you. I’m drawn to you, Brienne.”

She didn’t know what that meant but she knew she wouldn’t deny him. Especially since she wanted this with a fierceness. 

“If we…you mean for it to be tonight?”

His face became awash with hope. “I would be happy for it to be tonight,” he said slowly, "but I’m also open to your suggestions on another time.”

Her breathing had become quite shallow. “I would be…amenable to it being tonight,” she said, trying to keep her rather breathy voice steady.

It was his turn to suck in a breath. “Gr-great.”

Was he nervous? She’d made him spend so much time convincing her that she wondered what it’d cost him. It was not an easy thing for someone to ask. She wouldn’t let him regret that he’d chosen her. She was determined to make it a good experience for him. Her first thought to that end was that it really would be nice if they could wash away some of their road sweat and grime. When she said as much to Jaime, he agreed and left the room to go see if a hot bath might be procurable. In the meantime, Brienne quickly removed her armor and outer layers of clothing, used the chamber pot, and took time to think on how to proceed with the evening. 

Jaime returned not long after, knocking and waiting for her to let him back in. He was followed by two men carrying a huge, round, wooden tub and several more men and women carrying buckets of steaming water, which they proceeded to pour into the tub once it had been set in front of the fireplace. Jaime himself carried a pitcher of wine and two cups, which he set down on the now empty table. Brienne had hung her swords, the new and the old, from a coat rack tucked into the corner on one side of the bed. He began to remove his own outerwear and armor, not expecting anything unruly from the inn workers. The procession of men and women filed out of the room and returned in short order with additional buckets of water. When the tub was filled, one of the men placed a board across the middle of it and one of the women placed soap, bath brushes, washing cloths and towels on it. 

Brienne listened to the click of the door lock as Jaime thanked everyone, slipped coins into their hands, and shut the door behind them. She had expected a basin and pitcher to use perhaps, not a full on bath and not a tub that it seemed would be able to seat both of them and seemed intended for that purpose. She guessed they would get to the business of being naked with one another just that much sooner. The silence was heavy between them as Jaime turned to face her again. She needed to keep it together. She was the one meant to know what she was doing after all. 

“Thank you, Jaime. This is wonderful,” she said, eyes drifting over the tub. 

“You’re welcome. I’m kind of looking forward to it myself.” Her eyes met his again and she saw the nerves there. “Looking forward to everything else too, of course.” 

She allowed a smile that she thought may have shown that she felt the same anticipation. “We should take advantage of the water before it loses its heat,” she said practically, pausing before starting to unlace the top of her tunic. She saw Jaime’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat, his eyes widen, his pupils dilate. It was a good look on him. He seemed to shake himself out of his stunned inaction and moved until he was standing directly in front of her. She brought her hands to the hem of her shirt and he covered them with his own. “May I?” he asked breathlessly before she had a chance to worry about him stopping her. Of course, this was part of the experience, undressing someone for the first time. She moved her hands out of the way, nodding to him. He gripped the hem of her shirt gently and held her eyes as he carefully raised it, exposing her taut stomach and then the small curve of her breasts. It was unlikely anyone would ever write sonnets about them. Still, Hyle had enjoyed them enough and she had enjoyed how sensitive they had been to stimulation. The thought of Jaime touching them soon sent goosebumps up and down her arms. Jaime noticed after he’d pulled the tunic up and over her head, hanging it over a chair back. “You’re cold,” he said, pausing only briefly before reaching out to run his hands up and down her arms in a concerned manner. His touch to her arms seared her sensitive skin. “No. Not really. It’s…a different reaction.”

“Oh?” He seemed to understand, studying her face for several beats before letting his eyes drift southward to light on her collarbones and shoulders and then to linger on her breasts, her nipples stiffening under his gaze. His lips parted and she saw the heat in his gaze. That was reassuring. “Still not just the cold?” he asked, his voice a low purr to her ears. His eyes hadn’t left her chest. 

“No. May I?” She reached for his shirt and he met her eyes again, nodding. She loosened the laces and pulled it up over his head, placing it atop her own on the chair. She brought her hands to the waistband of his pants, willing them to stop shaking. He brought his own to hers and they carefully unlaced each other’s. She tugged his down first and he released hers to give her the space to do so, stepping out of them to help her. Then she stood and allowed him the same. She longed to touch him, to kiss him, to generally attack him, but then the bath would be all but forgotten and she wasn’t a wasteful woman. She also did think it would be a good idea for her plans and it would make her feel more comfortable. She reached for her own small clothes, sliding them down her long legs and putting them on the chair. Then she stood, completely naked before him. She straightened her back. No sense in not standing proudly. He’d chosen this, after all. He’d chosen her. She was what she was and she couldn’t change it but she did know how to bring him pleasure. She wanted him to see her confidence in that. 

“Brienne,” he breathed, looking at her in what could only be described as a reverent manner. Maybe there was something to this bedding a virgin thing. 

She let her gaze run down over his full height. She could see that he was straining behind his small clothes. Her hands itched to grasp him. She bit her lip briefly and that seemed to interrupt his stillness. He let out a groan and closed the short distance between them, placing his hands on either side of her face and smashing his lips into hers. It was clumsy but she didn’t care. It was a heady feeling to know he couldn’t keep himself from her. She brought her hands to his hips and pushed his small clothes down, finishing the job with her foot. She felt his hardness press against her thigh as he pressed further into the kiss and she felt his resulting shudder at the skin on skin sensation. It was with a will she didn’t know she possessed that she gently pushed him away. 

He studied her reddened lips and face and an apology fell from his lips. 

“No need to apologize. I just…you might want this to last a little longer.”

He looked chagrined but his lips curved beautifully as he nodded his agreement. 

“Get in the tub, Jaime.”

She heard the husky quality of her tone and noted that Jaime, or his cock at least, seemed to like it. He looked like he was considering launching at her again but he thought better of it and moved to the tub, lifting one leg and stepping into the steaming water. His other leg followed and he carefully sat down, keeping to his side of the tub. Brienne did the same and saw how he seemed to appreciate every inch of her long legs as she stepped into the tub. She stood above him for a long moment, letting him look his fill. She slid down into the water when she noted him gripping the edge of the tub until his knuckles turned white. She reached for the soap and began to run it up and down her arms. 

“So, to be clear, have you been intimate in any other ways…before you gave your Kingsguard vows, if not during your tenure?”

She lathered up her chest and slid her hands over her thighs beneath the water. All the while, Jaime watched her. 

“Before only. Just basic kissing and groping. I don’t have a lot of experience. I can do better than just now though, I promise. I’m just a bit rusty.”

His babbling was endearing. “I’m not complaining. Eagerness is better than apathy.”

“I could never be apathetic with you."

She studied him, wondering if she was dreaming. But no, she stretched her leg out a bit and it brushed against his and she knew that felt too real to be a dream. “I’m glad.” She reached for a washing cloth and wet it so that she could suds it up and then hand Jaime the bar of soap. He took it and began to run it over his chest and arms as she brought the cloth up to her neck and shoulders and beneath her arms.

“Is there anything…that is…there are different things we could do. Is there anything that you particularly hoped for?” Her eyes dropped to the surface of the water briefly and she felt herself flush. This really was new territory for her. And how had she found herself sitting naked in a tub with Jaime Lannister casually discussing how they might go about fucking each other that evening? She waited, running the washcloth under the water and over her stomach and then over the sensitive flesh between her thighs. Talk about eager. She fought the urge to moan.

She felt his hand begin to caress her calf under the water. It felt delightful. Her eyes rose to his again and he smiled at her. 

“Everything.”

Her eyebrows rose and her eyes widened at that. 

He cleared his throat. “I mean…whatever you’re willing to do with me.”

Oh, what wasn’t she? Her lips quirked to one side. 

“I’m terrible at this. I’m sorry. I’m a grown man. I should be able to…"

“No, I’m maybe not helping you much.” 

“I _have_ thought about this. I’ve had ample time to do so.” He sighed for a moment, smiled at her again tentatively, took a breath and spoke again. “I want to touch you…everywhere. I want you to touch me. I want to taste you. I want to know what it is to be inside you. I want you to enjoy it…genuinely.” 

She felt the heat spreading throughout her body and knew it had more to do with his words than the temperature of the water or the work of the nearby fireplace. “Jaime, I don’t doubt that I will.” She could see that he appreciated her words, and she meant them. She thought for a moment and then placed her washcloth back on the board. “Help me,” she said, placing her hands beneath it and starting to scoot forward and twist a bit. Jaime caught on and dropped the soap in the water to place his hands beneath the board to hold it up so that she could maneuver under it to sit next to him. She let go of it and situated herself as he pushed it as far as he could to rest across the opposite edge of the tub. 

She sat next to him, one leg bent and flattened against the bottom of the tub, her knee touching the side of it next to his torso. The other leg was bent, knee facing the ceiling and she’d placed her foot between his legs, so she could be turned toward him better. The water came up to their armpits but everything beneath was clearly visible. He let his eyes roam as she retrieved the soap from the bottom of the tub and lathered her hands. She looked upon his face as she brought her hands to his upper chest and began stroking him with light circles there, her fingers running through the short hairs that sparsely covered his taut skin. She felt all of the muscle and power beneath her fingertips. Of course she knew it was there. She'd seen it at work. She’d fought him. Feeling it so directly was a different thing though. She felt a bit drunk on it. She let her hands slide lower, let her thumbs graze his nipples. The air around them felt so still. She drug her hands down further still, feeling the muscles of his abs jump beneath her fingers. 

She leaned forward slowly, maintaining eye contact until her lips were touching his, until they were sharing the same breath. Then she allowed her eyes to close as she closed her lips around his. She brought one hand up to run her fingers through his hair as she took her time just teasing his lips with the pull of her own. He moaned at the attention and slid one hand around to her back and rested the other on her knee that was raised out of the water. The hand she didn’t have in his hair she continued to slide over his abs and up and down over his chest, teasing his nipples with light touches. He was kissing her back now, moving his lips against hers, gaining familiarity, exhibiting patience this time. On one of her passes over his chest, she moved her finger and thumb to either side of his nipple and squeezed and tugged before releasing it. He shivered. She repeated the motion but also captured his lower lip between her teeth and pulled them away on a scrape. “Oh, gods,” he muttered, gripping harder at her back and knee. She took advantage of his exclamation, darting her tongue out to test its reception in his mouth. He brought his hand up from her back and placed it at the back of her head, his fingers entangling in her hair. She took that as a welcoming sign and licked her way back into his mouth. 

He met her explorations with his own, the slide of his tongue over hers a new kind of dance for them and certainly an enjoyable one. Eventually, she moved her kisses from his mouth to his jaw and to his earlobe, which she worried with her teeth a bit before whispering that she liked kissing him. He buried his head in her neck and suckled there until she started mewling. She moved his hand from her knee to her breast and he was still for just a moment before he began to palm its modest weight and circle it with his fingers in a tantalizing manner. She moved her lips to his neck and it seemed he was a fan of neck kisses as well. She slid a hand over his lower back, letting her fingers dip to graze his upper buttocks. He rolled her nipple between his fingers and she gasped. He let go immediately and pulled back, making it awkward for her not to follow suit. 

“Was that okay?” he asked, breathless. 

“Gods, yes!” she affirmed, voice gravelly with desire. 

He smirked at her then, looking rather pleased with himself as he reached out and did it again. Her mouth opened on a pant. She straightened her spine and jutted her chest out and he received her message loud and clear, no ravens needed. This time he took her in both hands, admiring her flesh with his eyes as he manipulated it with his fingers. While he was distracted by her breasts (proof that men could be distracted by them no matter their size), she lowered her gaze to assess her next target. _The_ target. Smooth, hard, and reaching for her. Why not appease it? She fumbled for the soap still sitting next to her. Jaime wasn’t the only one enjoying his breast focus. Her teeth dug into her lip as he lowered his head and took one hard nipple into his mouth. She gave up on the soap momentarily and brought her hands to his head, gripping his hair and holding him there as he licked and sucked and drew sighs and moans from her. She wanted to straddle him right then and there for the gods’ sakes! He grinned devilishly up at her when he released her nipple with a loud pop. “I think you like that, Ser,” he teased. 

“You’re so astute,” she retorted good-humoredly before poking him in the shoulder. “Now, sit back. I’m going to do something _you’re_ going to like.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. It was almost comical how quickly he obeyed, his eyes growing rounder as he watched and waited. She looked down into the water, finding it easier to retrieve the soap without a competing priority. She shifted so that she was seated between his legs. She slid the bar up the side of his calf and used her other hand to spread the suds, a leg massage of sorts. She did the same on the other calf and on his feet, which she never would have known were ticklish otherwise. She sent him an evil look that promised she wouldn’t let that new bit of knowledge go to waste. 

She glided the soap further up his legs, over his knees and climbing higher on his thighs. She set the soap down to use both of her hands on each thigh, taking particular enjoyment in making him squirm and hiss as she worked his inner thighs. She could see how aroused he was. His jaw was slack, his eyelids hooded, and the most obvious evidence of his arousal was throbbing a few inches from her fingertips. She slid them back down his thighs and she could tell from the expression on his face, he was wondering why she was moving in the opposite direction that he wanted her to. Maybe she was enjoying this a little too much. But if this was a one time occurrence, she was going to get as much from it as she could too. She really enjoyed touching him, teasing him, seeing what effect she could have on him. 

She lathered her hands with soap and watched him watching her. “Do you touch yourself, Jaime?"

She didn’t know what it was that was emboldening her so but he didn’t look like he minded it. 

“Yes,” he answered in a low tone. 

She nodded slightly to him. With the thoughts running through her mind, she knew she must be displaying her desire on her face, whatever that looked like. There could be no hiding it from him now, not in that room on that night. “Good. Then you can tell me if there’s anything in particular you like…or don’t.” Having said so, she wasted no more time and reached into the water to grasp him in her hands, first one and then the other. He let out a cry she wanted to commit to memory for eternity and gripped the top of the tub on either side of his body. 

She knew it wasn’t particularly attractive when she smiled with all of her teeth showing but she couldn’t help herself from doing so for a long moment, being genuinely happy with his reaction. She ran her thumb over the tip, over the small slit there, and enjoyed his sharp intake of breath. She traced the taut skin right beneath the head, drawing her finger around it entirely. Then she wrapped her hand around the shaft and began to stroke him slowly, concentrating on smaller surface areas first and working up to longer strokes. She heard the stutters of his breathing. “Like?” she asked, seeking verbal confirmation though all other signs pointed to an affirmative. 

“Very much,” he croaked out, making her smile.

With her other hand, she traced lower, stroking and cupping his balls lightly. She watched for his reaction. Hyle had told her not every man enjoyed that. Some felt too sensitized by it. Jaime gritted his teeth and hissed slightly through them but when she looked at him questioningly he shook his head at her followed by a “don’t stop…please.” Noted.

On the other hand, he was a virgin. If she didn’t stop soon, he would spill his seed right there in the water. Not that that would be bad, but enjoyable as coming in that way was, it was the most like what he already knew and could do for himself...and she was tasked with helping him experience what he didn’t know. 

She glanced over her shoulder and considered the sturdiness of the board lying across the other end of the tub. In that spot, it was probably most supported by the tub itself and it was a thick, weighty board. It seemed worth risking. 

With one last stroke, she let him go and he watched as she turned and moved items from the board aside. She slid back toward him and kissed him soundly for a minute and then tugged gently on his arm as she pulled away. He slid with her toward the other side of the tub and she released his arm to pat the board in front of them with her hand. 

“Up you go, Lannister.”

He gave her a dubious look. Still, she knew he was intrigued. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you,” he said without hesitation, and she realized she felt the same.

She gave him a look and inclined her head toward the board and watched with anticipation, appreciation (that body, gods!), and some amusement as he stood and moved to carefully situate himself on it. Once seated, he slowly lifted his feet from the floor of the tub to test his full weight on the board and seemed pleasantly surprised to find it sturdier than he’d imagined. 

She moved forward so that she was sitting back on her feet, her legs tucked beneath her, positioned between his legs. She placed her hands on his knees and rose up on her own, stretching up to capture his lips for one more kiss. She brought her hand to his cock again, stroking him as they kissed. He moaned into her mouth. 

She sucked on his lower lip as she pulled away, releasing it slowly. A preview. 

“I’m going to do that here,” she told him, squeezing his length to indicate what she meant. “If you don’t object.”

He let out a light, nervous laugh. “No objection. I just…I may not last.”

“I don’t want you to.” She enjoyed watching the realization happen, the intense heat in his expression and the way his eyes began to glaze over. "It’s only round one of the tourney, Jaime.”

He gave her a jerky nod after a few seconds, seeming unable or unwilling to form any words at the moment. Her lips twitched with humor and then she settled back into a position conducive to her goals. She met his eyes as she placed her lips to the engorged head of his cock, just a kiss, just a first pass. He looked like he might kill for her in that moment if she asked or do pretty much anything else she would have requested. She darted her tongue out to lick at the tip a few times. Then she took the entire bulbous head into her mouth, giving it a generous suck, hearing the choked sound Jaime made above her, and noting the way he had gripped the board on either side of his thighs.

She pulled back and took deliberate delight in exploring the full length of him with her tongue. She twirled her tongue around the tip, sucked on the bundle of nerves on the underside where the head met the shaft, teased at the root, sucked lightly at the looser skin below. She heard him gasp and glanced upward. 

“I didn’t know...”

He trailed off. That statement covered much. 

“Sorry. Please continue.”

So she did just that. When she took his entire length into her mouth, his head meeting the back of her throat, he let out a curse. As she continued working base to tip, tip to base and using her hands to good effect as well, Jaime’s string of curses continued. Soon, he brought his shaking hands to her head. 

“I think I’m...I’m close,” he gritted out. 

She hummed around him and brought one hand behind her head to give his hand a squeeze and let him know it was okay. She didn’t let up and she was rewarded with his strangled cry and the involuntary buck of his hips about a minute later. She swallowed and slowly withdrew her mouth, releasing him with a pop as he’d done not long ago with her breast, just for the effect. 

His eyes were still closed and his breathing still uneven but he wore a rather blissful expression on his face that kind of made her want to snort despite feeling a swell of pride at having been able to bring him to such pleasure. Growing up, many said she’d never master any womanly charms but she thought if she had to master one, this might be most practical and useful. What would her septa think of her now? What a wanton woman she’d become! The thought made her laugh to herself. That prompted Jaime to open his eyes and look at her uncertainly. She stroked his thigh in reassurance. “It’s not...don’t worry. I was just thinking that my septa would think me quite the wanton right about now.”

“Your septa would be right…” She smacked him playfully on the thigh for that and he laughed. “...but I’m really, really liking this side of you, Tarth.” He urged her back and stood on shaky legs only to sink back down into the water next to her. He hugged her. She found it completely surprising and endearing. She smiled into his shoulder. “So far, so good, then?”

He squeezed her harder. “Yes, yes, so much yes! That was amazing...yes!”

She laughed. “Good. Save some of those yesses. Only round one, remember?”

She felt his growl more than heard it, his chest vibrating against her own. 

They pulled back to look at one another, Jaime staring at her with awe. Then his lip twitched and he got a twinkle in his eyes. 

“What?”

“I feel like there’s a sword skills joke to be made but I probably shouldn’t make it, huh?”

She clucked at him with humored disapproval. “But you’re dying to, so you might as well go on.”

He grinned at that. “It’s just, of all your sword skills, I didn’t know what a skilled sword swallower you were.”

“You’re so clever.”

“Why thank you. It wasn’t my cleverness you were eating right up just then.”

“Jaime.”

“Hm?”

“Enough now.”

He lowered his head to display his guilt. “Yes, Ser.”

That made her laugh and he looked up to meet her eyes again. “Did I ever tell you how much I like hearing you laugh? Even if it is at my expense.”

“No.”

“Well, I do.”

She ducked her head to hide her blush. 

“Is it weird for me to want to kiss you? I mean, after...”

“It’s not weird. It’s about what you’re comfortable with but I think when you’re sharing...all this...” She motioned between their naked bodies with her hands. “It makes sense to go all in and share it all. I don’t know. I wanted to taste you, Jaime. And I do want you to taste me tonight too. And I’ll want to kiss you after.”

He brought his hand up to caress her cheek, brushed his nose up against her own for just a moment in the sweetest way, and then proceeded to take her advice and go all in on kissing her. If he thought anything in particular about the taste of himself, he didn’t say so. He didn’t say anything for a long while, just kissing her and wrapping her up in his arms in a way that scared her in that she could get so used to it. 

Gently, she pulled away. The water was getting quite tepid at that point anyway. It seemed like a good time to leave the tub. He was happy to follow and wasn’t shy about enjoying the view as she stepped out of the tub first. 

“Your legs go on for miles. I like that too.”

“You should get out of the tub so I can wrap them around your head.”

“Fuck, woman!”

“That will follow.”

“You’re going to be the death of me. Waited so long to lose my virginity only to die overwhelmed by the whole experience.”

“It’s not my fault if you’re not hardy enough to survive.”

She’d already toweled dry but he came up behind her and pressed his still wet body against hers, resulting in her very half-hearted protest. 

He slid one hand down to fondle her ass cheek. “You have a most lovely bottom too,” he murmured, almost to himself. 

There was no denying to herself just how much she was loving his attention. She wriggled said bottom against his groin just for good measure before moving away toward the table and pouring them each a cup of wine. She turned and handed him one, seeing the raw hunger in his eyes as he brought them back up to meet her own. 

“Yours is lovely too. Cheers to attractive rears,” she joked dryly, clunking her cup against his. 

They drank some light sips of the tart liquid and just watched each other for a minute. Brienne set her cup down and studied him for another moment. “We should speak of practical concerns now before...well, before we get carried away.” 

He moved forward to set his cup on the table too and nodded his agreement. 

“I still have some moon tea to take,” she stated, all business for the moment. 

“Ah, yes, I...actually, um, Tyrion gifted me with something...a box of sex sheaths. He knew my Kingsguard tenure was coming to an end...joked I probably wouldn’t even make it out of the castle before falling into a...” He stopped abruptly, face reddening slightly. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter what he said. He was wrong but...maybe helpful?”

She smiled back at him. “That is helpful. How thoughtful of him.”

“He can be,” he said, amusement lighting on his lips. He looked at her for another long moment and then went to fumble through his pack, which he’d left with his outerwear on the other side of the bed. He thumped a box down atop the small set of drawers next to the head of the bed near where he stood. 

She glanced at her cup on the table again, turning her head to hide her smile, and then made her way to the other side of the bed, reaching out to draw the covers down. He followed her lead and did the same on his side. She slid in lying on her side and looked up at him, watching as he did the same. Their heads were on two separate pillows but their bodies less than a foot apart. 

“You said something about wanting to touch me everywhere,” she encouraged, her voice husky.

“I did, didn’t I? Come here,” he said, smiling a soft smile at her as he reached his large hand out to wrap it around the back of her head, drawing her in for a kiss as his other hand came around to the small of her back, pulling her to him so that their bodies were pressed together. As they kissed, their legs entwined, her hands caressed his chest and backside. He grunted into the kiss when she gave it a good squeeze. 

He let his hands roam her body too as they kissed. He teased her nipples and squeezed her breasts and his hand traced the curve of her ass, grabbing it in a rather possessive manner as his tongue continued to plunder her mouth. He let his hand slide down over her abdomen and their kiss slowed down in anticipation. She gasped into it when his fingers dipped lightly into the coarser tufts of blond hair that shielded her lower lips. He ran his fingers gently over the area, getting the lay of the land, she imagined. He sucked on her lower lip as he slid his finger further, through the wetness that had been pooling and over the sensitive bundle of nerves that had been so patient up until this point, wanting for his touch. “Yes,” she panted. He pulled his face back and smiled down at her, watching her as he continued to slide his fingers back and forth over her, noting the particular strokes and pressure that made her arch her back or squirm or pant. He slid a finger lower, found her opening, tested the ease of pushing into it, just a bit at first and then with his whole finger. She bit her lip, nodded, encouraged him, instructed a bit. "Curl your finger right there. Ahhh…yes.” "You can use your thumb too…” He was a quick study. And when he made her come, she honestly didn’t know who was happier about it. He looked like he wanted to go open the door and yell down the hall “Did you hear that? I did that!” Thankfully, he didn’t. He just got a cocky look on his face and leaned down to kiss her and ask her how long she needed to wait before he could do that to her again. Panting in his face, she explained that she didn’t really need the rest period he did. Feeling his erection against her thigh, she noted that he didn’t exactly need more of a rest period either. But she wasn’t going to rush things. He kissed her again and then moved his kisses from her lips to her face to a memorable spot behind her ear to more very pleasurable spots along her neck and shoulders, his body hovering over her own. He laved her breasts with his mouth and took care to stimulate both thoroughly this time. He let his hands roam as he did so and used his newfound knowledge to work her nearly to the brink again. He seemed to have a different method in mind as he kissed his way down her stomach. He stopped right below her navel, gently resting his chin there and looking up at her. He looked almost shy. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Jaime.” She felt the need to assure him, protect him. 

He placed a kiss right at the top of her fleshy mound. “I want to Brienne. I want to taste you. I want to lick up all the juices that are flowing from you for me, because of me. I just…want to be good at it,” he finished sheepishly. 

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, Jaime Lannister laid between her thighs wondering if he could please her adequately. She must be having a very detailed fever dream and if so, she really didn’t want to wake up from it. She didn’t laugh but she did tease him, encouragement in her own style. “Well, did you get so good with a sword by just staring at it and hoping to become a master swordsman?”

He chuckled. “No. Point taken. But do let me know if I’m doing alright.”

That time she did laugh just a bit. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.”

He could take that more than one way and both would be right. He turned and nipped lightly at one creamy thigh, making her laugh some more before his nip turned to a series of kisses that made all laughter disappear. 

“That’s…really…quite nice…Jaime,” she encouraged, as he thoroughly kissed her inner thighs, leaving her quivering with anticipation.

“I’m aiming higher than quite nice, wench.” His use of his old nickname for her made her smile. It had irritated the hell out of her when he’d used it back when she’d first started her knight training. She’d thought it was insulting and implied that she wasn’t fit for knighthood but Jaime’d felt differently about it, telling her later that she was in fact a she and milady didn’t roll off his tongue quite as easily when he was deflecting her blows in the training yard. He’d thought it rather a fond nickname. Still, he’d honored her by mostly calling her Ser ever since he’d knighted her…until, of course, they’d begun to use each other’s given names more. In this particular situation, wherein she was spending this particular kind of evening with him, the nickname felt quite fitting. And she did not care one bit that it did. She spared a glance down at him and felt amused at the look of consternation and concentration on his face as he studied her womanly wares for a moment. She held her tongue and waited. 

His kisses moved inward. He did not hold his tongue; he used it to good effect, thank the gods, at first tentatively but growing in confidence as he continued on. She did, in fact, thank the gods…and Jaime, quite loudly, in the course of the event. Her hands were buried in his hair, her legs wrapped around the back of his head, her own head thrown back and her back arched as she found, really, her best release as yet from this particular sex act. She told him so, after he'd eagerly lapped up the juices her body’d offered and had kissed his way back up to her mouth. He looked beyond proud, his face flushed and still glistening in spots with her wetness. As previously promised, she kissed him, tasting her own tang on his lips and tongue and made more and more heady by it as they continued. 

She wrapped her legs around his firm ass and felt his hardness press against her still throbbing center. Suddenly, she felt very impatient for more. She pulled back from the kiss and waited for his eyes to focus on hers. “I want you inside of me, Jaime.” He read the truth of it in her eyes and began nodding fervently in agreement. “The sheath, Jaime,” she implored, giving him a push with both hands to get him moving in the right direction. 

“Oh…yes!” He scrambled over the bed to retrieve one of Tyrion’s gifts from the box. She helped him roll it on and then lay back down on her back so that he could position himself over her. She slid one long arm between them and reached down to help guide him to her entrance, raising her legs up and hooking them behind his back at the same time. She brought her hand back to his side and nodded, biting her lip in anticipation. He pushed forward and groaned at the sensation of being gripped and surrounded by her wet heat. She moaned in turn at the sensation of being filled bit by bit by him. When he was buried within her, he brought his hand to her face and kissed her. She kissed him back and rolled her hips into his, enjoying his resulting gasp into her mouth. He took the hint and began to move within her, pulling back slowly and pressing in again. 

“You feel so tight…so good,” he murmured, alternately kissing her and pulling back to see her reactions to his movements. 

“You feel so good too, Jaime. You fill me so well.”

Encouraged, he experimented further with the length and speed of his strokes. Brienne found herself clutching to him, digging her nails into his shoulders and back, and demanding, er instructing, that he thrust harder and faster. She was close, so close. He had to be too. She brought one hand back down between them and Jaime slowed minimally to observe her actions. “Don’t stop,” she panted, sliding her fingers to the place where they were joined and touching him briefly before concentrating on her own need. She rubbed herself just as she needed as he continued the effective snaps of his hips that filled her and stimulated her from the inside. It took maybe seconds to push herself over the edge and she slid her free hand down to grip his ass hard as she came. The sensation of her clenching around him coupled with the ecstasy overtaking her face, the vividness of her blue eyes before the lids fell shut, the flush from her chest to her forehead, and his name spilling past her lips was all Jaime needed to find himself bucking uncontrollably and spilling his seed for the second time that night, her name a roar on his lips.

He slumped atop her and she held him to her, savoring the feel of their slick, sweaty bodies pressed together, his hot breath on her neck and in her hair, the pleasant throbbing ache between her thighs. 

Eventually, he peeled himself from her, removing the sheath and eyeing it with amusement for a moment before tying it shut and dropping it to the floor. Then he rolled onto his back and lay there panting up at the ceiling for a minute. He turned his head toward her, smiling like a child who has unexpectedly stumbled across a fresh batch of lemon cakes. She couldn’t help but return it. 

“Wow!”

Her smile grew bigger. 

“So, that’s what I’ve been missing? No wonder everyone thought I was insane, abstaining from it.”

“You made the choice you felt best about for you. That’s what matters.”

He turned onto his side and brought one hand to her cheek. “I still feel really good about my choices.”

“I mean, I gathered that you do,” she teased, making him laugh and scoot over enough to give her a playful peck on the lips. 

“Thank you,” he breathed as he pulled back to look into her face with sincerity. 

The high of her own orgasms was fading slightly and she suddenly felt a bit awkward. “Um, sure. It wasn’t like it was a real hardship.”

“Actually, it was...”

“Jaime...don’t.”

He chuckled at that. He closed his eyes again, lost to his own thoughts but still beaming. “Fuck!” he exclaimed with joyous wonder, his eyes popping open again after a few minutes. 

“That is what we just did,” she deadpanned. And then giggled.

“Did you just giggle? You don’t giggle.”

“You should shut up now.”

“Oh, no…I don’t think I will. I’m going to make you giggle again before the night is through.”

That got her attention and she gave him a questioning look. 

“I’m making up for lost time, here. Besides, I’m sure there’s more you could teach me.”

“Fuck.” A myriad of positions raced through her mind.

“That is what I want to keep doing, yes.”

She wanted nothing more. Still, she hesitated. She was warring with herself. One part of her still wanted to enjoy all the rounds they could get to. On the other hand, how extensive of a memory could she actually bear once they left this inn and this night behind them and he’d gotten this adventure out of his system? “We should probably get some sleep.”

He looked uncertain and maybe a little hurt. “If you insist. I don’t know what’s usual. I don’t want to overstep or trouble you beyond reason.”

“I don’t think this falls into the category of ‘usual’.”

“Was it...as expected? From your experience...”

He was being needy, but she thought she understood why. It was a significant event and could leave one feeling vulnerable. And she certainly had assurance she could offer. 

“It’s not always like this.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning this was really good. Really, really good, Jaime. You were right. Our bodies do move well together in bed too.”

He smirked and then became thoughtful. “So, it hasn’t been good for you at times?”

Well, she’d opened herself up for that one. “No.” He looked concerned so she continued. “My first time was...well, it was a weird circumstance. It wasn’t physically bad. It just wasn’t particularly good.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

She gave him a small smile. “Not now. Maybe another time.”

“Okay. But things improved from there?”

“Yes, gradually.”

“That’s good, I guess.” He closed his eyes and was kind of gritting his teeth as he said it.

“You said you didn’t think less of me...and you can’t really begrudge the experience that just benefited you so much.” She felt a prick of hurt and irritation at his reaction. 

He opened his eyes to look at her again. She thought she saw a hint of fear in them. “I don’t and I don’t. I just...”

“What?”

“I’m jealous.”

“What? Of Hyle? Is it some masculine territorial thing?”

“No, not...you make it sound really bad.”

“I’m not a tree to be pissed on, Jaime!”

“Well, I’d hope not! Gods, I hear some people are into that. I’m glad you’re not one of them!”

“This conversation has gotten ridiculous!”

“Then, let’s not talk!”

She didn’t know how or why they’d gotten so irritated with each other. It was something they weren’t strangers to though. They’d never reacted to it this way though, tongues shoved in each other’s mouths, hands gripping bare flesh with no regard for resultant bruises. Something still managed to hit her through the haze of lust that had settled over the bed again. “Jaime,” she gasped, pushing him back. His lips looked so deliciously wet, reddened, and swollen, she had to resist the urge to steal them back again immediately. “Why are you jealous?”

“Because I want you all to myself. I have wanted you all to myself. I wanted you to be my first before I knew you had any experience. It became a selling point I could make to you but it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d have wanted you whether we were both bumbling through it or not.” The truth all came spilling from him as he lay there in her arms. "And when I say that I’ve wanted you to be my first, I want to explain that I don’t have any thoughts of a second. Do you understand? I just want you. Not just tonight.”

Her mind and heart were racing as she tried to process his confession. Struggling, she latched on to one fact first. “You’ve wanted me for over a year?”

“I’ve wanted you for over two years, at least since I knighted you and probably before.”

“But you never said anything.” Nor did you, Brienne, she reminded herself.

“I didn’t know what to say. I still intended to uphold my vows. And I didn’t know if you’d be receptive anyway. I didn’t know if you could see me as more than a friend.”

“You took a chance tonight.” He really did, especially since it sounded like more was at stake for him than his virginity. He made it sound like his heart might be at risk too. Hope washed over her.

“I did. I was hoping I was right that you had come to want me too.”

“Come to?! I’ve wanted you since before you trained me.”

“Oh, gods…we really do have lost time to make up for!”

Her grin was big and goofy she was quite sure and he was looking at her like she hung the moon, so he obviously didn’t hate it. “I’m up for it if you are.”

He pulled her more tightly to him. “I think all evidence points to me being quite up for it.”

She scraped her teeth along her bottom lip. “Good.” She drew him into another long, heated kiss that ended when she rolled him onto his back, her thighs straddling his own.

“Great move, Ser,” he said, breathless. “What comes next?"

“You hand me that box from Tyrion and I show you my riding skills.”

“I thought you felt sleep was advisable."

"Sleep is overrated. Your training has just begun,” she said, rubbing herself over his length to punctuate the point.

“Yes, Ser!"


End file.
